If e'er she knew an evil thought She spoke no evil word: Peace to the gentle! She hath sought The bosom of her Lord.

Things of today? Deeds which are harvest for Eternity!

Stern fate and time Will have their victims; and the best die first, Leaving the bad still strong, though past their prime, To curse the hopeless world they ever curs'd Vaunting vile deeds, and vainest of the worst.

'Tis toil's reward, that sweetens industry, As love inspires with strength the enraptur'd thrush.

Again the violet of our early days Drinks beauteous azure from the golden sun, And kindles into fragrance at his blaze.

Daisies infinite Uplift in praise their little growing hands, O'er every hill that under heaven expands.